


I'll axe you later.

by pyropinkfish, QueenEdgar



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, episode fic, gay fluff stuff honestly, season 10 episode 7 to 10 introspection fic, will write more if prompted?, york is not impressed by these gays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5043601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyropinkfish/pseuds/pyropinkfish, https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenEdgar/pseuds/QueenEdgar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Bloody thing.” Wyoming huffed, his attention directed to shooing it further away with the barrel of his gun before aligning his shot. The informant couldn’t resist a good chance to jump at the joke, commending Wyoming for his amazing observation skills. </p><p>“Yes, I think being shot would do to make any living thing bloody.” Wyoming did not voice his appreciation for the A+ comedy Florida brought to the table. What a shame.<br/>-----<br/>A more follow up with the POV for Flyoming during the C.T. warehouse heist following season ten episodes seven to ten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll axe you later.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I basically rewrote (keeping dialogue the same with add-ins) these three episodes with shipper goggles on. Moderately tasteful, I'd say. Either way, it's just my introduction back into writing fanfic, I've been on a hiatus. If it's well received, I'd gladly take prompts for them! Also totally inspired to write my own after I started reading the cool multichapter Flyoming fic that's on ao3. Shout out.

“The water is freezing, they couldn’t have us setup where we aren’t standing in ice up to our britches?” Two suits of armor poorly circulating warmth for the soldiers they protected stood in the morning chill of the ocean. These particular two, a hunter and informant had been stationed three hours earlier to watch their prey. Well, more accurately, the prey of Project Freelancer. Regardless, they stood waiting, occasionally ducking under the water’s surface for cover from any insurrectionists that might see the duo, and when they were not under the water, Agent Wyoming was complaining. Rightfully so at least, three hours in the early morning of freezing water was enough to make Agent Florida frown himself, and it did not appear to either of them that relief to this unwanted task thrusted upon the pair would come soon. 

“It’s not that bad if you pretend the water is warm.” Florida tried consoling, teeth rattling into annoying clicks that the mic of his helmet picked up but was thankfully drowned out by the caws of seagulls and the sway of waves. Wyoming turned his head to him, the yellow visor tilted down as if to glare. Florida gave a hearty laugh, rubbing his forearms. Unlike Wyoming, he didn’t get a fully operative suit that generated at least some body heat. In fact, he only had a bullet proof skin suit to keep him warm with few pieces of armor, none of which were on his arms. 

“You are far too positive, old mate. I think your method is failing you.” Wyoming grunted, shaking his head in disapproval as he turned his attention back to the dock they were supposed to be watching. Then with a hurried motion, Wyoming tugged Florida back under the water, much to the blue soldier’s displeasure. But the shot that disturbed the water and blood darkening the already grey color, Florida had a moment of panic. He waited, one… two… three… and to his relief, Wyoming slowly broke the surface again and brought his rifle up to peer through. Florida followed suit and had to stifle the laugh that threatened to escape when he saw the floating bird drift away from them. 

“Bloody thing.” Wyoming huffed, his attention directed to shooing it further away with the barrel of his gun before aligning his shot. The informant couldn’t resist a good chance to jump at the joke, commending Wyoming for his amazing observation skills. 

“Yes, I think being shot would do to make any living thing bloody.” Wyoming did not voice his appreciation for the A+ comedy Florida brought to the table. What a shame. Nonetheless Florida kept quiet, watching as a Falcon landed down on the dock. 

“Well, third craft this afternoon. Let's see who else is arriving.” The sniper declared, changing the subject as he began to zoom in with his rifle. The familiar sight of brown armor greeted him, making him pause as the girl looked out at him. “There she is.” Florida jerked to look, only seeing a distant blob of armor. 

“Come in, Command. Tell the Director she's here.” Wyoming radioed, signing off when he had confirmation for their next orders. 

“Well, old chap, time to dry off.” The sniper began to swim around their hiding dock, awkwardly holding onto his rifle as he toed through the chin high water. Florida’s shoulders slumped as he followed and after getting around to the back, he scaled the ladder that lead to the deck. As the faster of the two, he was more capable of checking for guards first, taking out the two slackers who watched the back by the time Wyoming stood on the wet wood, knees shaking from the cold air being even more of a shock to his system than the water. The older agent glanced over to Florida, only receiving a thumbs up from him as he hovered over the unconscious guards.

“Fast working. Let’s hurry inside, shall we my dear?” He chided, walking up off the planked deck to the back door. It was minimum effort to use the butt of his gun to knock the lock off, and as it clanked to the hard concrete, Wyoming kicked the door open and leaned out to prop it wide with his hand. Florida snuck under his arm, a little bit of a bounce to his step as he readied his gun and peaked down both ends of the hallway. 

“All clear.” Florida fell into a lax stance as the two walked through the hall, favoring the right. It wasn’t long before Wyoming was getting the transmission that the rest of their backup showed up, if the loud guns and screaming from outside wasn’t an indication on its own. Wyoming and Florida took to clearing out any straggling guards as they scoped the rest of the building. C.T. had to be hiding somewhere around here. 

After a lucky turn, the duo ended in an odd storage room with, Florida noted delightfully, plenty of high spots to climb up on. 

“Oh you are free to do all those gymnastic tricks, Butch. I’ll stay tucked right here in this nook.” 

“What fun are you?” Florida teased as he used Wyoming’s arm to steady himself to climb up on a couple of boxes. Wyoming kept his other arm out, ready to catch should he fall. 

“None when overhead beams are involved. You’re quite balanced enough to be fine and dandy on your own.” Wyoming declared, watching with a keen eye while Florida hiked himself up a lower support beam. Then he scaled up to the closest one that hung over, looking back to make a flirty remark.

“Don’t you know it.” He stood to take a little bow for his accomplishment. The other agent sarcastically clapped. 

“Know what? What a flexible deviant you are?” He taunted, earning a waggle of a finger for his comment. He wore he saw the smirk radiating under that helmet. 

“Once we’re back on the ship, I’ll show what a deviant I am.” He hummed as he continued to climb up until he reached a walkway path, suitable for him to move around above the floor. Wyoming was about to make another witty comeback when the door opened. He shuffled back into his hiding spot behind a pillar, gun readied. 

Wyoming counted four walking out in front of him on his HUD’s motion tracker. His grip tightened on his gun, frowning when he heard the footsteps stop. Florida realized too late his position was compromised. He tried to dart across the walkway, do something to avoid being seen but with the taunting snap of “Catch” before a tomahawk axe impeded itself into the flesh of his shoulder. A shame, he always thought about getting a full suit of armor. Guess now it wouldn’t matter he thought as the force of blow knocked him off his balance. He flailed to grab the safety bar, but his hand slipped and too soon his back slammed into the hard floor below, all too closely followed by a shout of the sonofabitch who threw the axe giving orders for his gunners to shoot the walkway. Thank God Wyoming chose to stay on the ground when he had the chance.

“Hold that position.” The leader growled before Wyoming sprang out to fire covering shots. When they only bounced off the monsters those two called guns, Wyoming dashed out to another hiding spot. He looked out to Florida, panicked about how fast the situation turned for them. He was about to call to the blue soldier, but dark grey and pale gold took precedence for his attention. 

“Well, about time.” Wyoming growled, craning his head back at the twin gunners. 

“Hey, Wyoming. Did we miss all the fun?” York scoffed, settling down to keep hidden. A little mentally preoccupied with Florida laying in the middle of the uncovered ground. His lack of movement called for concern. 

“Hardly, chaps. Now where's our dear Carolina?” If they could just hurry the hell up with this mission and get out… And of course, speak of the devil and here she is. Carolina’s grand appearance of running up behind a pillar whilst also yelling at him to move up just spoke volumes of how little Wyoming cared to follow her orders. 

“With all due respect, I'd prefer not to be killed. If at all possible.” He snapped, attention back to the gunners. Was that a damn audio box making the laughing/crying mix? Either way, the next shot he takes he hoped would cut the damn sound. 

“York! Got any ideas?” Carolina hissed, no doubtedly realizing she wasn’t going to get Wyoming to work with her. He was a sniper. Why the hell should he get closer?

“I don't know. Have we got any nukes?” 

“You mean besides the one I'm going to drop on Wyoming if he doesn't move, the hell, up?!” 

“Yes, I can see everything just fine from back here. Thank you.” Wyoming barked back, unimpressed by her constant picking him out.   
Perhaps she didn’t see the fact his partner was laying on the ground motionless. Because it certainly put a hinder on his concentration. 

“We need to get into that bunker,” Carolina said, looking around for a clear cut solution to her problems here. “That's where C.T and their leader are holed up,” 

“How are we going to get through all of this?!” Washington cried out, indicating the gunners again. 

“So far, we're not.” Wyoming said, giving the younger a shrug. 

“Maybe Wyoming should try one of his knock-knock jokes.” York sarcastically suggested, given the sniper’s lack of actual helpful responses.  
Wyoming jumped on the chance for a healthy distraction from his potentially dead partner lying not even ten feet away. “Oh, who's there?

York’s groan didn’t go unnoticed. “Nobody, stop.”

“Nobody, stop who? Shall I go on?” Wyoming was enjoying the younger agent’s frustration just a bit more than he should. 

“Yeah, I was kidding. Now shut up.” His attempts to backtrack the conversation failed miserably.

“Shut up, who?”

“Both of you shut up.” Carlina interrupted, already annoyed and on edge as it is. The shenanigans between two agents who were supposed to be highly trained soldiers was doing wonders to create a headache for her. “Okay, here's what we're going to do. Wash, you establish a line on that side. York and Wyoming, you-” 

Before she could finish, something caught her eye. That something quickly revealed to be Tex, who managed so easily to get passed the gunners. “Dammit, no! Cover me!”

“‘Cover me?’ That's the plan?!” York didn’t have time to argue any further, Wash already bolting to move behind a pillar on the opposite side. The two open fired on the gunners, Carolina rushing forward amidst the gunfire. Wyoming didn’t see it fit to move. 

There was a pause in the firing when everyone saw Carolina go down, but just as quickly she was back on her feet, this time racing after Tex and leaving the boys alone with the gunners.

“Carolina!” York yelled after her, cursing as he signaled to Wash, the too retreating back behind the cover of the pillars. “Damn it!”

Wash shook his head, glancing at York. “Man, she really wants to win.”

“Yep,” York replied, looking in the direction Texas and Carolina had disappeared. “But it's not them she's fighting against.” 

With the two agents providing cover fire for Carolina, Wyoming took advantage of it to move closer to Florida. He knelt beside him, nudging him persistently while York argued directives with Carolina over their comms. It wasn’t that Wyoming didn’t want to help get themselves out of the warehouse, but matters were a bit pressing with the body next to him. 

“C’mon, Butch, up and at ‘em.” The sniper insisted, putting his hand on his shoulder blade. Slowly Florida began to stir, causing for Wyoming to retract his hand to give him space. The blue soldier pulled himself up to his knees, grunting under his breath as the consciousness rushed back to him. Florida looked down at the tomahawk still imbedded in his shoulder, then he glanced around at the other three, catching the end of the conversation York and Washington were having.

“Good show, mate! That's the spirit,” encouraged Wyoming, the ever-supportive partner. “Still have a bit of fight in you.”

The informant stood up, feeling the blood drip down through his suit. With slow gestures, he yanked the axe out with a bloody squelch-like noise. He glanced at the weapon and with no hesitation threw it across the room. Wyoming, Washington, and York all grew quiet as they watched, only for the tomahawk to fall short. The only benefit from the sheer disappointment Wyoming felt at his partner’s failure was the fact the gunners paused in their rapid fire, albeit the gunners continued within seconds. 

Wyoming could feel the sheer disappointment coming off of Florida as York scoffed at him. “So much for that plan.” York said, while Florida ducked down, taking cover as Washington blurted a “what now?” to York. 

The sniper shot his partner a quick glance, admiring the sharp wit about him. Florida might have been hurt, his shoulder bloodied, but it didn’t stop him from grabbing his gun and taking aim at a nearby crane. They both felt a wave of satisfaction when the crane arm knocked a crate onto the two gunners, smashing them into a puddle. 

“I don't believe it!” York exclaimed. Wyoming huffed; that’s what he got for doubting Florida. He was a great soldier, regardless if York thought so or not. Florida glanced back to Wyoming and let his gun hang by his side while he used a free hand to flash a thumbs up. 

“We're all clear Carolina. We'll be dark in less than sixty.” York radioed, still clearly in disbelief as Florida crossed the distance to Wyoming. The sniper lowered his own weapon in favor of tugging Florida against his chest. The blue soldier let out a content sigh as he pressed his helmet into the crook of Wyoming’s shoulder and neck. 

“Good shot, dear chap.” He hummed, reaching up to rub the other’s back.

“They aren’t going to start making out are they?” Washington groaned, turning away to investigate the dead gunners. York scoffed, ruffling the top of Washington’s helmet. 

“Come on, we have to go shut off the power.” 

Wyoming kept his attention on Florida, specifically the blood dripping down the front of his armor. “We need to get you back,” He said, already radioing back to the Pelican before his partner could protest. Florida pulled away to pick up his gun and together the duo managed to avoid any trouble as they met up with a medical evac team at the rendezvous. It felt like every other mission they were harnessed next to each other in the back of a pelican as they waited for the other four to make they way to the ship. 

All things considered, Florida lucked out with the axe. While it did do some pretty bad damage to the muscle of his arm, nothing was severed beyond repair and his back wasn’t broken from the fall. With stitches and work off until his arm was healed, Florida was given the green light to roam free of his own accord. Which of course meant he would be right beside Wyoming in the rec room. 

The two cuddled together under a blanket, Florida’s cold nose pressing against the fevered skin of Wyoming’s neck. Where Florida was lucky not to have been killed, Wyoming felt like death was upon him. Three hours in ice cold water really wasn’t good for your health.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to point out that in "C.T." Wyoming absolutely moved BACK to be next to Florida before Florida stood up. I've seen the scene on repeat to get placements down. It's adorable. I scream each time.


End file.
